your eyes are planets. with dark circles as asteroid belts, your freckles, comets and each time an eyelash falls, it’s a shooting star to wish upon. the black hole of your mouth entraps mine, as i am locked into this void. i never want to escape, it’s a safely abstract dimension. the galaxies clashing in your irises are unexplored. but if it’s the last thing i do, i will navigate each rock and ball of gas within them. i am the only astronaut in the universe of this sleeping girl, and i am in search of every constellation.
Aviva is a queer poet who moves like a daisy in the wind, with no specific place in mind; enjoying the sway of fate. She’s been writing since elementary school, working towards earning a BFA in creative writing at the New Hampshire Institute of Art. Along with poetry and flowers, she enjoys her hourly coffee, cloud gazing, and dumpster diving for new collage materials.